Sorry For Everything
by Cally Starkiller
Summary: Sequel to 'I Hate You'. "Maybe I didn't show in every possible way, how much I cared..." Sometimes its Carver's fault. Sometimes its Hawke's fault. Sometimes their fights just happen. And sometimes all you need is, once again, that certain elf.


**Author's Notes: Sequel to 'I Hate You'. Not entirely necessary to read it but this story does reference to it occasionally.**

**However, this story is not over yet. Another story that ties up any loose ends or that might just lead to more questions is coming up next. **

**Inspired by the song 'Sorry For Everything' by Dead By April. **

**Oh and the part that happens with Anders was WolverinesDarlin' idea so thanks to her for that. **

**I own nothing. All hail Bioware. **

* * *

><p>"There. All dead." Hawke grinned happily, lifting her hand to wipe away the blood on her face. It only smeared the blood and made her look even more sadistically scary. "No need for pay Serrah. I can just loot the coin from their dead bodies."<p>

"Y-you used magic! You're an apostate!" Fear shook in the woman, brown eyes wide with terror.

"But my magic saved you, did it not?" Hawke mused, pick pocketing the nearest gang member on the ground.

"That does not matter! That man over there could've easily saved me with his sword than you and your magic." She spewed the word magic as if it was taboo. "Learn to use a sword you freak!" The woman shouted, backing away slowly with each word she said.

"Oh if I could. But my brother would get mad if I start getting better at him with a sword. I'll stick with the thing I was born with thank you very much." Hawke could feel a hole burning in her skull where Carver was staring at. She knew she was going to get chewed out for mentioning their relation. And for her arguing with this woman.

"Templars be upon you!" The woman they saved ran off into the night of Lowtown, disappearing around a corner.

"Shit." Carver kicked the dirt, his expression unreadable.

"Carver…" Hawke put the coin she managed to scrounge up from the bodies into a tiny pouch, eyeing her brother.

"See? This is what happens when we try and help people." Carver crossed his arms, frustration radiating from him.

"We? I didn't see you help me in that little conversation I had with the lady." Hawke said incredulously, blue eyes narrowing slightly.

"And make the situation worse?" Carver screwed his eyes shut then gazed over at his older sister, his irritation clear as day.

"So we agree that you tend to make things worse? Glad to hear it." Hawke sarcastically said, shaking her head. "Now what?"

"Now." He sighed. "Now you go away."

"Right." Hawke knew what was to happen. She had to go someplace else for awhile, until she was certain no Templars would come strolling in Gamlen's house and take her away, putting her family in danger of harboring an apostate.

No good-byes were exchanged between the two. Carver left her behind as he headed back to the house and Hawke could only stand there among the carnage, knowing not to pity herself. To Darktown it is.

As she made her way toward Anders' clinic she heard strange noises emanating from within and hid near the steps, crouching down to make sure she wasn't seen. Maybe it was the Templars. Maybe they finally caught up to Anders. Maybe they're taking him away for questioning. Maybe he'll accidentally mention her name. Maybe…maybe she should actually do something.

Hawke rose but bent back down again when the clinic doors slammed open, numerous men piling out, all of them coughing or throwing up. Their bags clinked with stolen supplies and the men quickly dispersed Hawke cursed and ran up the steps, glancing inside the clinic before yelping at Anders' voice.

"What are you doing here, Hawke?" Anders questioned but peered around her to see his clinic had been ransacked.

"I didn't do it!" Hawke exclaimed and pointed in the direction of where the men went.

"I know you didn't do it but…is that…puke?" Anders disgustedly asked, backing away from the stinky mess.

"Mhm well if it smells bad and appears gross in appearance, then yes. I'd say it is." Hawke commented, keeping a faraway distance from the clinic as Anders went inside.

"At least it wasn't Templars. It wasn't, was it?" Anders asked, slight fear in his trembling voice.

"Doubtful. They would've waited around for you to come back instead of taking off and leaving like that." Hawke cautiously took a few steps down the stairs, watching as Anders surveyed the damage. She would've guessed he'd be barking mad but it must've happened to him before. "Thugs. Sick thugs I should say, probably came in here and took whatever might help them with their illness and booked it when I came around."

"Figures." Anders mumbles, sighing heavily. "Time to ask around the Ferelden help center for supplies." He shook his head, clearing his throat violently. Hawke raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for more of a response.

"Anders…are you blushing?" Said man twirled around to face her and quickly shook his head no.

"Why what's wrong…oh. Oh dear. Hawke. You should leave." Anders exited his clinic as fast as he could, shutting the doors behind him and locked them. "Advanced Red Fever. I know the symptoms now. First I'm robbed. That I can handle. But this sickness spreading around here…? And those thieves stealing the health potions…Maker."

Hawke was fully down the stairs now at the mention of Advanced Red Fever. "It's…airborne?" She questioned, glancing around her worriedly. If she caught the fever, that's just be another problem she'd have on her hands aside from the Templars.

"No. Not exactly. If you're near any infected areas or touch anything that has the disease, I'd start isolating yourself and find a few basic health potions." Anders was turning redder by the minute, struggling not to scratch himself.

"So now a disease and Templars? My day is going well already." She started laughing but the conversation she had earlier with the woman and Carver came to mind. She ceased and awkwardly stood there, waiting for Anders to ask about the Templar bit.

"Templars? Maker's breath Hawke I don't need them following you down here." Anders' paranoia was getting to her and Hawke sighed, knowing coming down to Ander's clinic was probably not the best idea she's ever had.

"I know I know. I should go." Hawke frowned and started walking away until Anders cut in.

"Look, I'll take care of this disease here and you go hide. Don't worry about the Templars trying to find you. They probably weren't even following you or else they'd be here by now. It's not your fault. I hope." Anders strained to make a feeble attempt at chuckling but instead pictured different scenarios at how Hawke might've attracted the Templars and shuddered before heading back toward his clinic.

"Well Hawke. You did it again." She said to herself, making a run for it through the more populated areas of Darktown and down toward where they used to mine, sitting in mining carts when she grew tired. She figured it was night by now and stopped in a secluded area, almost near the Undercity and made sure to stack boxes up to conceal her position.

The coldness hit her hard, wishing she knew had the materials to make a small fire. All she had was her magic. The cursed thing that put her here in the first place.

"I had to be a smartass." Hawke muttered. She shivered and huddled in the corner then wrapped her arms around herself, mind retracing her steps.

"First I had to help some poor innocent hag from being mugged and killed. Then I had to be stupid about it and attack the men with fire. Carver could've said something. Carver could've been a better brother. It's his fault I'm out here without a change of underwear and no scratchy blanket to hide myself with." Hawke stood up abruptly and began pacing.

"Carver's the troublemaker this time. Carver's the idiot. Carver's the nughumper. Carver's the joke of a brother. Carver. You're stupid." Hawke said to no one in particular, kicking the wall in front of her.

"Ow. Stupid foot." Hawke grumbled, holding her foot tenderly. After getting her frustration out, she slid down the wall and crumbled up into a ball. "No. I'm the idiot."

Tears threatened to fall and she ferociously wiped at them, negative thoughts penetrating her mind. The Templars would find her hiding place. The Templars would take to the Circle. The Templars wouldn't give her family any compensation. The Templars would hurt her like they hurt Anders if she tried to escape. The Templars would give her scars like they gave Anders scars.

Or slavers. Slavers could find her. Slavers could sell her for a mere three sovereigns. Slavers would abuse her like they abused Fenris. Slavers would neglect her like they neglected Fenris.

She wasn't sure which was worse.

"I'm such a cheery person." Hawke flicked a pebble and watched as it bounced around on the dirt. After this a pattering of someone's footsteps brought her to her senses and she quickly grew still, listening as the footsteps bounded down the steps and toward her spot. "Back off or else I'll turn you into a toad!"

She soon realized she just told whoever was there that she was a mage. Mentally face palming herself Hawke raised her hands to defend against who was there.

"Hawke?" Fenris pushed aside the boxes Hawke set up, curiously peering his head around the corner.

"Fenris. Wearing the red underwear today are we?" Said man ducked his head to hide the radiant blush appearing on his cheeks, coughing to cover his low chuckle.

"I…hope I wasn't too brusque in my behavior the other night. You humans have a saying. When the wine goes in…"

"Strange things come out." Hawke finished for him. "I think it was the dwarfs that started that one. Although it had to have been the more classy ones. Most dwarfs just stick to ale."

"True. Best not let Varric know you don't think he's…classy." Fenris paused before saying the word classy, as if to be digesting the word to his vocabulary. "Which reminds me. Varric has his own saying about humans. Like human beings, a wine's taste is going to depend a great deal on its origin and upbringing."

"Does he now?" Hawke couldn't help but smile at that one. "And don't worry about the other night. It was fun."

"Yes. It was." Fenris said. "So what are you doing down here?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing." Hawke countered.

"Your friend in the guard passed along some information about slavers being seen down here. I thought I'd take a look…" Fenris trailed off, waiting for Hawke's explanation.

"Oh. Right. My turn." Hawke cleared her throat. "My brother…and some lady…Mother and Gamlen…they…my magic…I-" Hawke stumbled over her words and ended up spilling every single complication she's had since they had to live with her Uncle. The recent fights with Carver, being blamed for everything by her mother, Gamlen's put downs…it all came out in a rush.

"Maker's breath I need a drink." Hawke said, glad she got all that off her chest. Fenris didn't say anything throughout her entire rant, being a patient listener. Just as he was a patient listener during her inane chatter when they shared drinks a few nights back.

"Or a dance." Fenris suggested and watched with amusement the look on Hawke's face turn from exhausted to happy. "We never did get around to the dancing, did we?"

"No. I suppose we didn't." Flashes of the other night appeared before her eyes…

**...**

"Are you sure you don't want me to clean up around here? I mean look at that dead body. It reeks!" Hawke scrunched up her nose, tiptoeing around shattered glass and broken chairs.

Fenris chuckled at her various reactions and offered her a glass of his wine. He settled down next to the fireplace and watched as Hawke eyed something near him. "Do you play the lute?"

"The…what?" Fenris asked slowly and followed where her gaze was aimed at.

"You know. The lute. A musical instrument. It plays songs." Hawke said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know very well what a lute is, Hawke." Fenris insisted and picked up the instrument, strumming a few notes.

Hawke listened as Fenris idly played a few notes and sipped on her drink until it was empty. The two took turns to play the lute and refilled their drinks when necessary. Randomness spilled out their mouths as the sips turned to gulps and the gulps turned to chugging.

"What color underwear are you wearing?" Hawke asked, a muffled laugh following.

"Not you too." Groaned Fenris as he refilled his drink.

"I'm sorry about Izzy." Hawke took two large gulps at once but sputtered at their strong taste. She still wasn't used to wine. Ale she could handle, but not wine.

"Red." Fenris answered after his fifth drink, face void of emotion.

"Red?" Hawke lifted her eyebrow at him.

"Red." Fenris repeated and allowed Hawke's slow mind to catch up.

"Andrastate's Tits, I was kidding!" She still laughed though and another hour slowly crawled past.

"I need a ladder." Hawke cut in after a moment of silence.

"Why's that…Sofi?" Fenris struggled to stand up to no avail and tumbled about.

"My name's Hawke. Like the bird." Hawke narrowed her eyes at the uncooperative lute and threw it aside.

"Heh. A bird." Fenris connected invisible dots in the air. His fingers jabbed the air as if to poke something. "Danarius' beard reminds me a bird nest."

"Varric is teaching my brother to grow a beard. On his chest. A chest beard!" Hawke thumped her chest to make her point clear.

"Chest hair Hawke. Chest hair." Fenris corrected and picked up his fallen lute.

"Yeah…" Hawke agreed and flopped down on Fenris' makeshift bed. It was quick to get drunk but it was also quick to get sobered up. Fenris relented to his aching feet and laid down on the bed beside Hawke, the both of them quiet. Hours went by, the alcohol slowly retreating from their systems, the hazy fog lifting. Pounding headaches greeted them when morning came but neither of them moved from their spot.

"Are you okay Hawke?" Fenris asked. He stared at the ceiling and noticed the cracks and stains.

"Are you?" Hawke twisted her head to meet his.

"No." Fenris refused to meet her gaze.

"Okay." They left it at that.

**...**

"I suppose we left it at a standstill in the end." Despite trying to wash away their pain with booze and laughter, the attempt was futile in the end. But it was worth a try. It was better than going back home where her family was at.

"True."

And again they left it at that.

**…**

"I heard you got in a fight." Hawke watched as her brother cleaned his bloody sword.

"Yeah. So? I won." Carver bluntly said and put aside his sword.

"And it was four against one?" She continued.

"Yeah? …and I won." Carver repeated, sighing at his sister's inane talk.

"I know. It's just that, when I was your age I got in a fight and it was six to one. I believe I won that one." She matched his cocky tone when he bragged about battles he got into, chest puffed out and arms crossed.

"…you ruin everything." Carver scowled.

"Aw come on Carver. Have a sense of humor. I'm proud you killed those men. Or at least violently maimed them. That just shows my little brother is growing up." Hawke tousled his hair, standing on her tippy-toes to reach his height.

"Back off." Carver knocked her hand away from him, turning to go into the adjacent room.

"What's the matter? Afraid I'll tell Mother about your little encounter with Peaches?" Hawke pulled out the letter from her back pocket, waving it in the air for all to see. Carver stops short, freezing in place. "Ring a bell? And you did in Old Barlin's barn? Really Carver? I worked in that barn too!"

"What do you want?" Carver barked, not turning around to face her.

"Nothing. Just wanted you to get your letter. Here it is. I'd reply quickly. Peaches likes to move on after awhile." Hawke shrugged.

He glanced between his sister and the letter, uncertain of what to do next. After a while Carver muttered a thanks but didn't take the letter, retreating to his bed.

Hawke crumbled up the letter, threw it in the fireplace and frowned. "You're welcome…"

**…**

"Bloody darkspawn!" Hawke growled, lighting each and single one of the monsters on fire. She could feel the adrenaline and rage surging through her veins, magic singing its little song as she cast numerous spells.

Carver coughed violently, struggling to swing his sword at any darkspawn that came near him. It was always him that had to defend his sister. But now it was his sister that's defending him now.

The taint was growing stronger, making him weaker. He fell to the ground, sword clattering beside him. Anders and Varric picked up the pace, killing darkspawn that Hawke might've missed. Carver watched as his sister grew angrier by the minute, thrashing anything that was in her way. He's never seen her this way before. It was like as if she cared about him and hated that he contracted the Taint and that darkspawn gave it to him.

Why couldn't she have been this way before instead of being silly and childish when it came to battle? Memories bubbled to the surface and Carver let them…

**...**

_"Sister! Move for Maker's sake!" Carver grew exasperated with his sister, who was now at the moment bashing nearby Shade's with her staff since she ran out of mana. Carver spotted the look on that elf's face when he stared at Hawke. He was about to tell him off for his sister but Anders' yelling battle cry 'I'll show you why mages are feared' cut him off. Carver just rolled his eyes at the abomination, taking note to ask his sister why exactly she let him join them even though he knew it would end in an argument. When he glanced at the elf again, it was then he realized that he was staring at her because he probably thought she was crazy._

_He knew the feeling all too well._

_Carver sighed loudly and then rushed to kill the Shades and ended up saving the day. The Shades were dead thanks to him and not to her for once. "I had them on the ropes." His sister said defensively._

_"Sure you did." Carver shook his head at her. "An odd question but it's been bothering me…do you think abominations bleed?"_

_"I don't know. Let's find out. Hey Anders, come here." Hawke snickered and Carver had to laugh at that one._

_"Very funny Hawke." Anders was rolling his eyes, grinning a tiny bit._

**…**

_"Ow! I can't move my arm!" Hawke waved her arm in the air, practically running around in circles. She kept shaking it around and her blood splattered everywhere. "I can't move my arm!"_

_Carver could only stand there and watch his sister make a fool of herself, letting Fenris and Anders to finish off the remaining shades. "Maker's breath…"_

_Anders rushed over to her aid, settling her down. He healed the small gaping wound and used a tattered piece of cloth to dab any remaining blood away. "Be careful next time!" Carver glared at her._

_"Not my fault. Someone put that shade in front of me." Hawke muttered, examining her new bandages._

**...**

The last of the darkspawn were fried and that's when the Grey Wardens came by. Anders argued with them, telling them they'd be fools if they didn't take Carver. After conversing awhile the Grey Wardens turned toward Hawke, who was letting Carver lean on her for support, and gently moved Carver away from her.

There was a million things she wanted to say to her brother, a million apologies for the way she's treated him, a million explanations for past events, but all she could say was, "Little tip? Don't do anything I wouldn't do. At least, not without me."

And off her little brother left, to face the unknown without her.

It was always what he wanted, right?


End file.
